Night Terrors
by Fiercely Awkward
Summary: Alma blames herself for allowing Johanna to return to the thick of the battle.


With a soft, strangled cry Alma jerked awake. Her head was spinning and the usually soft downlights felt like burning bright torches to her sensitive eyes.

 _Explosions. Gun fire. People running everywhere. Snow. Blood. Johanna._

She rubbed her eyes to clear her head of the painful images.

 _Johanna covered in blood. Blood that was quickly draining from her body through the multiple bullet wounds puncturing her small chest._

Alma lowered her hands, staring at them like they where alien. She could almost see the vivid red liquid dripping from them into the snow and she desperately tried to hold her girlfriend together.

But they were not red. There were no explosions. She was safe in District 13.  
Safe in her presidential suite.

Safe.

Even though she had sent the one person she truly loved into danger.

The dull green light of the communicuff flashing in the corner read 0600.  
Not being able to sleep, Alma had made a pot of tea and thrown herself into work.  
Rations, meeting, planning,military, soldiers, operations, water, numbers, statistics, Katniss, Plutarch.

Johanna.

Images of her body, bleeding and broken, plagued the presidents thoughts.

Alma just had to close her eyes and repeat the fractured sentences that had become her mantra over the last month.

"She is fine. I would have been told had this not been the case. Had something happened.  
Alma. Get a fucking grip on yourself. Her returning to military work was logical and practical.  
Anyway, it is not like you could have done anything to stop her – shes a stubborn ass.  
Breathe. Just Breathe. She will be fine."

But it had been 32 days and Alma knew the longer they were out there, the less likely she was to return home unscathed.  
A dry sob wracked through Almas body, doubling over she clutched her stomach. Resting her head on her knees she mentally berated herself for her outburst.

They should be home soon.

She knew if it wasn't so dangerous they would contact more often. But 2 quick phone calls in over a month was taking its toll on the usually stoic woman.

Be patient. Be strong. Be strong like Johanna – for Johanna.  
For her people. For district 13. Her people needed her. They need a strong leader, especially now.  
Johanna would return soon. And if she doesn't …

Standing abruptly, Alma cut of her train of thought. She did not want to even consider a world without Johanna Mason in it.

* * * * * * * *  
Crawling into bed just past midnight, Alma was exhausted. Mentally, physically and emotionally exhausted. But with a satisfied sigh she rolled over and let sleep take her. This was her plan after all. If she pushed her body to breaking point she could sleep without the terrifying nightmares plaguing her. Right?  
* * * * * * * *

 _They had her._  
 _They had Johanna._  
 _She had failed the one person she should never fail._  
 _And all she could do was watch. Watch as those white armoured bastards dragged her away. Watch as the beat her, electrocuted her, and broke her, before tossing her body, broken and lifeless, out onto the street like a bag of garbage. And those eyes. Those eyes that once shone with such anger, passion … love. Stared at her through the screen from where she sat helplessly, 2000 miles away._  
Lifeless. Empty.  
 _Burning holes through her soul._

Almas eyes shot open, her ragged breath catching in her throat as she recalled the last moments of her dream before her body jolted her awake.  
Wiping the sweat from her forehead, her heart skidded to a halt when she noticed a figuring rolling over in the bed beside her.

Still in her army regulated black tank top and socks, dark, spiky hair cropped short and snoring lightly was Johanna Mason.

Blinking, Alma half expected her to disappear with her slowly vanishing nightmare.  
But she was still there, sleeping peacefully. Hogging the blankets like normal.

Like normal.

Alma let out a watery laugh.

She looked exhuasted. Heart beating erratically against her ribs, Alma slowly trailed a trembling hand down her lovers pale cheek, cupping it.  
Not wanting to wake the obviously tired woman, Alma gently touched her lips to her Johanna's forehead and then snuggled up to her side.  
Breathing in the smell of her lover, she sighed contentedly, drifting off to a peaceful sleep as Johanna wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer.


End file.
